A Sodding Perfect Bloody Day
by SuikoTorrent
Summary: Written to counter all the stories where Cye is ill, injured, raped, beaten, murdered, poisoned, drowned, kidnapped, and just generally trampled upon. This is a story in which Cye has a perfectly magical day in which nothing bad happens. Period.


#07 – Days

Title: A Sodding Perfect Bloody Day

Rating: PG, for language and an overdose of happiness.

Summary: This was inspired by the descriptions in the search for "Cye", the sum of which is: "Cye is poisoned" "Cye is arrested" "Cye is raped" "Cye is captured and tortured" "Cye has a mysterious love child and has to pay child support" "Cye gets sick" "Cye is gravely wounded". Why can't it be "Cye goes to market and buys an apple" or "Cye takes a walk in the park and pets a puppy"? So here we go. Cye has a perfectly lovely day, where nothing bad happens to him whatsoever. Also, I'm poking fun at a few fandom clichés here, but don't get mad at me. It's all in good fun.

Author's Notes: Lots of OOC. Or maybe not. I can't decide.

--

The sun rose with a glorious fanfare, as did Cye. He stretched luxuriously and his orca pajamas rose high on his midriff. He let his breath out with a sigh and a smile. 'My word!' he thought. 'What a splendid morning!' Rising from his cupcake sheets, he pattered over to the window and threw open the shutters. Dew glittered on the flowers at his windowsill, and when he winked at them they winked back.

"Today," he announced to the world, "is the first day of the rest of my life!"

--

Downstairs, the other Ronins were eating their respective breakfasts, being perfectly capable of making it themselves. When Cye came in to the kitchen looking fresh and clean after a shower they all raised a hand in greeting.

"Good Morning!" he beamed.

"Morning," they all chorused.

"Well," he said, sitting down to blueberry waffles drowning in syrup and a very British cup of tea. "What are everyone's plans for the day?"

"I'm going to sit around and be beefy!" Kento exclaimed merrily with a mouthful of food. Cye smiled at him indulgently.

"I'll probably train and talk to White Blaze!" Ryo said cheerfully as he was wont to do.

Sage calmly sipped his tea. "I plan to spend the day utterly unfazed."

Cye looked curiously at Rowen who looked blandly back at him. After a pause, he said, "I guess I'll do whatever you do."

Cye's smile was so bright it could scare the blind.

--

The park was full of happy families in their Sunday best, larking about in the sun. Cye felt right at home, taking the scene in and letting it out on a warm, fuzzy sigh. Rowen kicked a rock.

"Oh, Rowen. Can we feed the ducks?" Rowen looked at the lake where, sure enough, a flock of pictorial ducks sailed serenely by. He rubbed his temple, which was beginning to throb.

"Sure, Cye. Let's go feed the ducks."

--

On their way down the path, a child's ball came rolling over and stopped next to Cye's sneaker. He picked it up and smiled at the little girl waiting shyly for him to give the ball back to her. Cye grinned and crouched down. "Here, darling. That was an impressive kick!" The girl, charmed, thanked him and scampered away with a blush, her lacy dress bouncing like her curls. Rowen watched this the way one watches late night infomercials – where it's not particularly fascinating but it's all there is to do. He looked to his left where some greasy kids were playing softball. One of them smacked the ball heavily which, as if fulfilling its only purpose in life, careened towards Rowen's face and landed squarely between his eyes.

"Sonofa-!" He cussed and gingerly touched the bridge of his nose. The batter ran up and stared at him.

"Gimme my ball!" He whined. Rowen glared at him.

"You could apologize," he mumbled. The child did so by kneeing him in the crotch and stealing his ball, running back to his friends. Cye then finally noticed what had happened and his hands fluttered up to his mouth in surprise. "Oh, Rowen! Your face!" Rowen let his hands drop, fascinated by the swishy movements of his friends'. Cye probed the lump tenderly and frowned when Rowen winced. Gently, he kissed him between the eyes.

"Poor baby," he cooed. Rowen stared.

They continued toward the ducks.

--

"Do you ever wonder why the big ducks aren't yellow? Why they're only green and brown, or white?" Cye asked pleasantly as ducks delicately nibbled bread from his hands.

"No." Rowen said bluntly, perturbed. A duck had bit his finger. Not having teeth, he had naively thought them incapable of biting. "I never, ever wonder that."

"Hmm," Cye hummed noncommittally. The ducks quacked for more bread and he giggled.

Rowen stuck his hands in his pockets.

--

As they were headed back to the main area of the park Cye started whistling. Normally his voice was pleasant and sweet, but it was just so all-of-that it made Rowen's teeth hurt. As his song grew, a flock of bluebirds lit on his shoulders, a few bunnies and squirrels scampered at his feet and even a little fawn came over to nuzzle his legs. Rowen stared, _horrified. _

"Hello friends!" Cye smiled and bent in low to talk to each and every one of them about their hopes and dreams.

Rowen had had _enough. _He hauled Cye up by the sleeve of his blue and white striped hoodie and half-dragged him away.

"Oh, are you ready to go, Rowen?" he asked innocently. Rowen said nothing, only concentrated on getting them the HELL out of the goddamned park.

"Oh, look! _Ice cream. _Do you want ice cream?"

Rowen slowed, then stopped.

Rowen liked ice cream.

--

Five minutes later, Cye had bought them both an ice cream cone, his strawberry and Rowen's, characteristically enough, vanilla. Rowen was too absorbed at first to notice how close Cye had gotten until he felt his sticky fingers laced with Cye's own. He looked up, met Cye's smile, and sighed in defeat. That look would charm a Nazi and even Rowen couldn't resist. He slung an arm around Cye's shoulder and they left.

That night, after a bath during which he'd made some long-distance calls to his friends the sea creatures via Torrent Water Communication Power, Cye sat down at his desk and his diary. "ABBA," he said to it and the book sprang open.

'Dear diary,' he began. 'Today was the best day ever. I hope tomorrow will be just as good!' He scanned over forty-five other identical entries and shut the book, satisfied. He stretched, yawned, and climbed into his cupcake sheets, cuddling with his stuffed cuttlefish named Cuddlefish. Then he closed his eyes.

"Goodnight bed. Goodnight desklamp. Goodnight hamper! Goodnight carpet. Goodnight humidifier. Goodnight pillow. Goodnight ru-!"

"GODDAMMIT, CYE! THESE WALLS ARE THIN!"

"Goodnight Rowen!"

And the moon smiled and rained down glitter.

The End.


End file.
